by John Bowers
Suzanne smiled. “No. I have a boyfriend. We share a house together.”
“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”
Suzanne hesitated briefly, then realized she couldn’t reveal much that wasn’t already known.
“Marshal Walker.”
“Do you mean Nick?”
Suzanne was surprised. “Yes, how did you know?”
“I met him a couple of times. He’s nice.”
“Yes, he is. He’s a good man.”
“I know. But my papa doesn’t trust him.”
“Why not?”
“Papa says he’s a pagan. Are you a pagan, too?”
“Well…yes, I guess I am. Do you know what a pagan is?”
“I think it’s somebody who doesn’t believe in God.”
“That’s one definition,” Suzanne admitted. “But that’s not what the word really means.”
“What does it mean, then?”
“It means somebody who lives in town, or in a village.”
“Are you sure?” Parthena sounded skeptical.
“That's what Nick told me. His father was a preacher and he knows a lot about religion. So, because I live in town, I’m a pagan. And you know what you are?”
“I’m a Christian.”
“I know, but besides that.”
“No, what?”
“You’re a heathen.”
“I am not!”
“Yes, you are. Do you know what heathen means?”
“It’s the same thing as pagan.”
“No, it isn’t, not really. A heathen is someone who lives in the country.”
“Are you sure?”
“That's what Nick told me. Back in ancient times the countryside was called the heath, and people who lived on the heath were called heathens.”
“That sounds pretty silly.”
“I guess it might sound that way.”
“Did the pagans believe in God?”
“Probably not, and neither did the heathens.”
“Do you believe in God?”
“No, but I believe in a goddess.”
“A goddess! What’s that?”
“It’s a god who is a woman. My goddess is called Sophia.”
“That sounds pretty pagan!”
“Yes, I guess it does. But it all depends on where you grow up and what you’re taught.”
“I don’t think I could ever believe in a goddess.”
“You might, if you never heard of the other God. If your parents believed it, you would probably believe it too.”
“Hm.” Parthena crossed her arms and thought about it. “I guess that makes sense.”
Suzanne decided it was time to change the subject.
“Does your papa know you’re out here talking to me?”
“No.”
“Isn’t he going to be mad?”
“He’ll pretend to be mad, but he never stays mad. I’m his favorite.”
Suzanne heard a door slam in the distance.
“Partheeena!”
“Oop! That’s my mom! I gotta go!”
“Okay, see you. Thanks for talking to me.”
“I’ll come back later if I can.”
“Don’t get yourself in trouble.”
“I won’t. Bye.”
Suzanne watched the little girl race down the length of the barn to the door at the far end, then lost sight of her. The mother continued to call, then the voices faded as the girl reached the house. The door slammed again and everything fell silent.
Suzanne retreated to her bench and stretched out again. Talking to Parthena had been an interesting diversion, but she had no way of knowing if it had helped her situation any, or even been a good idea. By admitting that she was “pagan”, she might have actually made her situation worse, but the child had responded well enough. It couldn’t hurt to have at least one friend among her captors.
Even a little one.
Chapter 28
Trimmer Springs – Alpha Centauri 2
Suzanne wasn’t there.
At first Nick thought she might be in the shower, but he heard no water running. He checked anyway. He checked every room in the house and then the back yard, but didn’t find her. Her handbag was in the kitchen, lying on the table as if she’d just come in and laid it down. The cooking equipment was dark and cold, no food was laid out for cooking, and…it looked as if she hadn’t been there for some time.
A cold finger of dread traced across his heart. He took a second look through the bungalow, with the same results as before, and then his eyes fell on the nitro-cooler…
The door was cracked open, less than an inch. Cold air from inside condensed as it escaped, forming a thin wisp of fog. Suzanne would never have left that door unsealed—she had run a restaurant for years and was fastidious about such things.
Nick backed out of the kitchen, his right hand unconsciously settling on the handle of his laser pistol. His heart was pounding and cold fear seized his chest. He walked out to the back yard again and made a more detailed search, paying attention to the slope beyond the fence. He climbed over and walked all the way to the edge of the cliff, in case she might be lying injured somewhere. But he saw no sign that she had even been there.
Fighting a rising sense of panic, he went next door and pounded on the door. The elderly lady who lived there, whom he had only met briefly when he moved in, hadn’t seen Suzanne at all, but admitted that she didn’t get out much.
“Did you see or hear anything unusual today?” Nick pleaded, his desperation rising.
“No, I’m sorry, Marshal. I…” She stopped, frowning in thought.
“What?”
“Well…now that I think of it, there was a car that took off really fast. I heard the tires squealing, and then I smelled burned rubber coming through the window.”
“What time was that?”
“I’m not certain…around noon, I think.”
“Did you see the car, or who was inside?”
“I didn’t see anything, I just heard it. And then I smelled the rubber.”
Nick thanked her and hurried to the curb in front of the bungalow. There, clearly visible, were fresh tire marks. They were worthless forensically, as the treads were blurred by spinning wheels, but the amount of black residue confirmed the neighbor’s report.
Nick stood in front of the house with his mind racing. If Suzanne had been in the car, it wasn’t good news. But it might be the only thing that made sense—she might have been abducted.
He locked the bungalow and headed back for the marshal’s office. Nelson was just locking up. He stared in surprise as Nick appeared in front of him.
“Suzanne’s missing!”
“What? Are you sure?”
“I can’t find her. Her handbag is there but she isn’t. She left the nitro-cooler open and the neighbor heard a car squeal out around noon. I found tread marks in the street.”
Nick delivered it all in a single breath; Nelson took him by the shoulders to calm him down.
“Come back inside. Let’s not panic yet.”
“Luther, I think she’s been kidnapped!”
“You don’t know that. Calm down, now.” He pushed Nick into a chair and went to the cooler for a bottle of water. “Take a slug of this. Let’s figure this out.”
Nick accepted the water but didn’t drink it. He sat staring at the wall, his face flushed.
“What were her plans for today?” Nelson demanded.
“She was going to see Mildred Trimmer—”
“At the boutique?”
Nick nodded. “They’re planning a business deal. Suzanne wants to take a shot at selling Vegan fashions.”
“Have you talked to Mildred?”
“No, I came straight here.”
Nelson reached for the comm, spoke Mildred’s name, and let the comm locate the number. The boutique was still open. Nelson talked for a minute, then logged off.
“Mildred says Suzanne was there just before noon. She hasn�
�t heard from her since.”
“So she probably went home…” Nick’s eyes narrowed. “She was getting something out of the cooler for lunch, and…someone jumped her.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Who would do something like that?”
Nick stared at him as if he were nuts. “Who do you think?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. It could be the Groaners, but it could also be someone else. Suzanne is one very hot lady.”
“Are you thinking sex crime?”
“I’m not ruling anything out. We don’t have much problem with that sort of thing, but with ten thousand people there are always bad apples. And no one like Suzanne has ever been seen in this town. Not ever.”
Nick’s feeling of desperation deepened. If the Groaners had taken her, he had few worries that she might be raped, but they just might kill her. He didn’t even want to think it might be someone with a darker motive.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
“I’m not being very objective, am I?”
“Don’t fault yourself. It’s hard to be objective when it’s this close to home. I think we need to turn this over to Dwyer’s people and let them run with it. It’s their town and they have more resources than we do.”
“Luther, I can’t just do nothing!”
“I’m not suggesting you do nothing. Just expand the search. If Suzanne made an unscheduled stop somewhere, they’ll find her quicker than the two of us will. If it’s more serious than that, the more eyes the better.”
Nick nodded reluctantly.
“And,” Nelson concluded, “you can focus on the Groaners, if you think they’re responsible. What about her porta-phone? Does it have GPS?”
“Yeah, but it’s lying on the kitchen table. She carries it in her handbag.”
Nick heaved a deep breath.
“I swear to god, Luther, if they took her, and if they hurt her…I’ll climb back into that fucking tower again! I swear I will!”
The Kristoferson farm – Alpha Centauri 2
Suzanne had been dozing, but sat up abruptly as she heard someone fiddling with the lock on her cell door. The room was totally dark now, not even a flicker of daylight visible from the cracks. She felt her heart pounding as the bolt slid back and someone gripped the door handle.
Before the door opened, a man’s voice called out to her. She recognized it as the one called Enos.
“Got some supper here for you, Miss,” he said in a low but clear voice. “I’m gonna open the door now, but if you try to make a break for it I’ll have to stop you. Fair warning.”
Suzanne didn’t reply. He waited for a moment, and when she didn’t answer, the door opened slowly.
The sudden burst of light seemed harsh at first, until she realized it was only a lantern, the ancient kind with a wick and a flame. The glow it created was actually quite dim, but in the absolute darkness it seemed very bright indeed. The lantern sat on the barn floor a few feet behind Enos, backlighting him. She could see his silhouette but not his face. He seemed able to see her just fine, and when she didn’t move he took a step inside with a plate of food in one hand; in the other he held a short stick that might have been cut from a shovel handle.
“Here you go,” he said, extending the plate toward her. “Ain’t much, but it’s good food. Don’t want you to starve.”
Suzanne took the plate without reservation. It was steaming hot and smelled delicious. Simple farm food, but wholesome—corn, potatoes, fresh-baked bread, beans and carrots. The only utensil was a large spoon.
As soon as she accepted the plate, he backed away.
“Wait!”
He stopped, his hand on the door.
“If you leave, I won’t have enough light to eat. I’ll end up spilling it. It’s so dark I can hardly use the bathroom.”
She still couldn’t see his face, but the set of his shoulders suggested he was embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, Miss. I hope you won’t be here long.”
“Look, just stand there while I eat, can you? I won’t take long.”
He looked undecided, but she quickly began wolfing down the food to show him she was serious. He seemed hesitant, but didn’t move. Suzanne kept eating, far too quickly to really enjoy it.
“Do you have any idea what happens to me when I leave here?” she asked between mouthfuls.
Enos shifted his weight unhappily. “I can’t talk about it, Miss. None of this was my idea.”
“I didn’t think so,” she told him. “You don’t seem the criminal type.”
He recoiled slightly, as if the word “criminal” disturbed him. He stared off to his right for a moment, then gazed at the floor, waiting for her to finish eating. Suzanne concentrated on the food, eating a little slower now that he wasn’t rushing her.
“You know, they’re probably going to kill me,” she told him, “whoever brought me here.” She looked directly at him. “I don’t think you want to be a part of that.”
His head swung from side to side, just a dark shadow against the glow of the lantern.
“I never wanted any part of this,” he said. “The sooner you leave here the better.”
“You’re already a part of it, Enos.”
He jerked as if electrocuted. She couldn’t see his face, but was sure he was staring straight at her.
“I heard them say your name,” she said, “so I know who you are. When Marshal Walker finds me, he’s also going to know. And he won’t be happy with you.”
“Miss, I told you—I never had nothing to do with any of this!”
“Enos, I’m a prisoner in your barn! That makes you a part of it whether you want to be or not. And if they kill me, the Federation is going to arrest everyone who was involved, no matter how little they had to do with it. That means you could spend the rest of your life in a Federation prison. What would happen to your family if that happened?”
He stood shaking his head in denial. She could almost hear him trembling.
“Are you done eating yet?” he demanded after a moment.
There was still food on her plate, but the worst of her hunger was satisfied. She took one more bite and handed the plate back to him.
“Enos…I know none of this is your fault, but the only chance you have of staying out of prison is if I tell them you had nothing to do with it. Before you let them take me out of here and kill me, you better think about that. Marshal Walker will believe me, but only if I’m alive to tell him.”
He stood there a moment longer, staring into the cell, then closed the door.
“Think of your daughter!” she called out. “Parthena doesn’t want to lose her daddy!”
The bolt slid home and the lock snapped. Suzanne heard him walk away, and lay back down on her bench. A cold dread now spread through her body. She had deliberately mentioned murder just to get the man’s reaction—he knew what they were capable of and probably what their plans were. The fact that he hadn’t pooh-poohed the possibility scared the hell out of her.
Sleep was a long time returning.
Chapter 29
Tuesday, January 18, 0444 (CC) – Millennium Village, Alpha Centauri 2
Just as Alpha Prime began to peak above the mountains, two hovercars raced out of the morning mist that hung above the Trimmer Plain and into Millennium Village. Fans racing and dust flying, they settled to the street on either side of the tall house with the flagpole. Nick Walker and Luther Nelson leaped out of one, Carrie King and Officer Dougherty from the other. Guns drawn, Nick and Nelson trotted up onto the front porch of the Groening home, King and Dougherty went around the back. Nick pounded on the door.
“Federation Marshal!” he bellowed. “Open up!”
Up and down the street, as dust drifted from where the cars had landed, the houses sat silent. Here and there a curtain was pushed aside, but no one emerged. Except for the morning mist, the air was absolutely still; the red flag hung limply from its pole.
“Open up!” Nick hammered
on the door again. “Antiochus Groening, I have a warrant for your arrest!”
Inside, Nick heard feet thundering down the wooden stairs. A woman’s voice squealed fearfully, then fell silent. A moment later the door opened and Titus Groening stood there.
“What’s the meaning of this!” he demanded.
“Open up,” Nick repeated. “Hands in the air.”
“What for? You said you had a warrant for my father, not for me!”
Nick jerked the screen door open and gave Titus a shove with his left hand. Nelson followed him into the house, swinging his gun to cover the room at large. Two women Nick hadn’t seen before stood at the foot of the stairs, still in robes; both appeared to be in their sixties, with long grey hair knotted into pigtails.
“Turn around,” Nick said, pushing Titus still farther into the room. “I’m not here for you, but until we’re done I’m going to disarm you.”
Titus flushed with anger but did as he was told. He stood facing the women with hands raised while Nick lifted his pistol out of its holster.
“Where’s your father?” he demanded.
“I’m right here.”
Nick turned at the sound of the voice. Antiochus Groening had emerged from a doorway on his left, fully dressed in work pants and a shapeless white shirt. His grey beard looked tangled and unbrushed.
“I thought you people were early risers,” Nick told him. He stepped away from Titus, leaving Nelson to cover him, and approached the cult leader. “I have a warrant for your arrest. Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“A warrant for my arrest?” Groening actually looked amused. “On what charge?”
“For the attempted murder of Maggie Downing.”
“Preposterous!”
“That’s just for starters,” Nick added. “There’s quite a bit more, but we’ll leave it at that for the moment. Now turn around.”
Muttering to himself, Groening turned his back and let Nick cuff him. Carrie King and Officer Dougherty emerged from the back of the house, pushing a red-haired boy in front of them.
“The kitchen is clear,” King said, “except for this one.”
Nick glanced up. “Morning, Darius,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt your breakfast.”
The boy stared sullenly at him, his eyes shifting from Nick to Nelson, and then at Titus.
